


say nothing; share nothing

by Zekkass



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Empathy, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Pre-Slash, Soul Bond, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 02:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The deal breaker that's made them both wish that they had silence in their heads, that they had never woken up feeling each other - the deal breaker is how the bond ruthlessly ferries their emotions between them.</p>
<p>Where Bruce feels attraction to people he's never met and where Tony feels a slow-burning anger at a life that's not his, a deep sense of bitterness that speaks to his own but isn't his. They can't turn it off, distance doesn't help, and in a single sentence, they can explain why they would do almost anything to sever the bond.</p>
<p>Tony has triggered the Hulk before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	say nothing; share nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for trope_bingo over at dreamwidth for the soul bonding / soulmates square. I interpreted this by giving Tony, Bruce and Steve a bond that automatically kicks sometime during childhood and shares most thoughts / emotions and ran with it.
> 
> This fic is mostly canon-compliant, from Iron Man to Avengers, but takes some liberties.
> 
> It's a little more disjointed than my usual style, but I hope it's clear enough. Finally, it's unbeta-ed, but I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless. All credit and blame goes to legete for out and out forcing this to happen.

The deal breaker that's made them both wish that they had silence in their heads, that they had never woken up feeling each other - the deal breaker is how the bond ruthlessly ferries their emotions between them.

Where Bruce feels attraction to people he's never met and where Tony feels a slow-burning anger at a life that's not his, a deep sense of bitterness that speaks to his own but isn't his. They can't turn it off, distance doesn't help, and in a single sentence, they can explain why they would do almost anything to sever the bond.

Tony has triggered the Hulk before.

\--

They have never met in person yet Bruce knows how to take the arc reactor apart, put it back together, and put it back where it belongs.

\--

On and off through the years Tony wakes up freezing, cold to the bone and terrified because he can't breathe, he can't _breathe_.

Happens not once, but whole weeks in a row, weeks that would drive him to raise the temperature to tropical heights and try never to sleep except when Bruce all but forces him to try, an insistent stream of thoughts that override his own. He sleeps.

(Bruce apologizes later, for the violation, for forcing him.)

Bruce's turns: times where Tony almost broke their one rule and almost tried to find him, so he could take him in from the cold.

\--

Waking dreams, where Tony is a soldier, one who fights but defies orders - he can't be sure if he's hallucinating or dreaming or if it's just him. (He is no soldier.)

Or Bruce wearing a body that's too big for him, too perfect for him and they both dream of being alone and sickly and they have theories sitting between them to explain _why_ but never anything concrete. There is nothing to test, nothing to experiment with.

Nothing but themselves. Bruce follows the dreams, chases the serum, the legend of Captain America, and what a disaster that is.

(Tony blames his father) (Tony always blames his father) (If not for the stories if not for Captain America if not for his _father_ Bruce might still own his anger.)

\--

Triggering the Hulk is easy: feel anger, rage, wrath. Snap at Rhodey, let a reporter get to him, let anything get to him. Sink into unpleasant memories without a way to stop.

The bond is ruthless, doesn't listen to Bruce's begging thoughts for it to stop, and before Tony can take it back -

Tony howled the first time. Punched the wall, destroyed what he was working on, almost ruined his relationship with Stane (he didn't know, back then) before he had control back, before the sheer rage the Hulk was feeding him dulled enough so he could think through it.

It, it was the bond, he explained. Apologized.

Bonds aren't common, but they are common _enough_ that Stane understood.

Offered to find and bring his bonded to him.

Tony, still shaking from anger and the difficulty of thinking through it, still knew enough to tell him no.

\--

The childhood agreement never to meet each other, for safety and to satisfy the selfish urge to keep the bond all for themselves - it becomes a rule when the Hulk comes into the picture.

There's no telling what close contact could do to the bond, Bruce doesn't want to cause harm, and Tony is comfortable with the idea of keeping Bruce from the public eye. He has no illusions: reporters would be all over Bruce like fleas on a skunk.

His time in Afghanistan sorely tests that rule, but it stands.

\--

They don't talk about a lot. The bond doesn't allow for boundaries, but that doesn't mean they can't take what little space they can.

\--

" _You've changed,_ " Bruce thinks at Tony as he wields his soldering iron.

_You would know_ , Tony thinks. Here is the thing: he never meant to send that, but Bruce hears it anyways. There isn't frustration over that, not anymore.

There is an image of the armor carrying Tony away from a green-tinged hulking beast. Tony puts down the iron; he didn't think up that image.

He wipes his hands. He looks at the mess of mechanics on his work-bench that will enable him to fly when he's finished putting everything together.

He deliberately sends an image of the armor standing with the Hulk, and another of himself, sitting with Bruce.

He does not stifle the want that has plagued him for so long, despite the rule, and he understands completely as he feels it resonate in Bruce.

It's not fair, not to either of them.

But it does stop Bruce from trying to talk about what happened.

\--

The only person he ever told about the bond was Stane, who almost kills him.

\--

Bruce has nightmares for weeks about dying by slow degrees. Tony can feel him not-thinking about the metal near his heart for hours at a time.

He pretends he doesn't hear it. It's for the best.

\--

Tony is dying; he lives with it.

He forces Bruce to live with it too; threatens to get angry on purpose.

It's impossible to miss _going an entire lifetime without meeting me_ but it is possible to ignore it, to keep ignoring it, to go on living with death in view.

\--

Coconut. _Coconut._ It is not possible to share the sensation of taste through the bond, but Bruce assures him he'll find a coin and coconut and find out what it's like.

Tony just winds up laughing, and it's with relief that's more Bruce's than his.

\--

There comes a day unlike any other when Steve wakes up to snatches of song, as if someone were mouthing along to a tune, and he; he is alive.

He's not supposed to be. He accepted what would happen to him.

The real; the _physical_ filters in to him slowly. Everything is overshadowed by what is in his mind.

There is a running dialogue of _do you hear that_ and _that's not you, right?_. He could choke on the foreign emotions, the deluge of concern, curiosity, the desire to _know_ , and all he feels is fear, the deep certainty that something is _wrong_.

Hearing someone _in his head_ urging him to be calm terrifies him on a deep level.

What he does: focus on the physical. What he does: run.

\--

When he is told 'you've been asleep for seventy years' he doesn't know what to do.

\--

It's another watershed event in Tony's life, almost as great in magnitude as when he was kidnapped, almost as important as the Hulk coming into being.

There is no warning, one minute Tony's at work in the workshop, absently listening to music and Bruce's everpresent stream of thoughts, the next he's blindsided by thoughts and emotions that belong to no one he knows.

Confusion bounces between three of them for solid minutes, then Tony has the presence of mind to ask Bruce if it's him, if it's just some new twist to an old theme, and Bruce asks him the same thing, and oh, oh _oh_.

There is a third person in the bond.

How? No idea, not yet.

" _Who is he?_ " he thinks at Bruce, snapping at JARVIS to turn off the music; for once it isn't helping him think.

No answer from Bruce but something new from the third: a flash of dark hair, a strong looking woman in a military uniform, and for a moment Tony can't breathe for the _grief_ that isn't his.

It's thanks to the Hulk that he can think through the crushing emotion, can pull himself together to figure out who that is. It's not an image of the newcomer, carries too much emotion for that, it's someone he lost.

Tony opens his mouth, closes it, his next orders for JARVIS forgotten.

He knows who that woman is.

\--

Bruce finds a quiet alley to stand in while he holds fast against the grief.

He's grateful that whoever this newcomer is, they aren't angry. He's hopelessly pathetically grateful that it is confusion and grief instead of anger, and that must cut sharply enough that there are finally words from the newcomer, a coherent, directed thought.

" _Why are you happy?_ "

" _You aren't angry,_ " Bruce thinks, and if this is permanent, if this newcomer is here to stay then he has to explain. Even if this isn't permanent he has to explain before there's an incident. " _If you were angry -_ " He fumbles for words, doesn't have a clear image of what he looks like from the outside.

Tony steps in, shows images, memories of footage he's seen of the Hulk. Shows a memory of a photograph of Bruce.

" _Anger changes him,_ " Tony sends.

The newcomer feels ill, ill on top of grief and confusion.

" _Okay, okay. Stay calm. Bruce, I'll find him and pick him up, find out if this is permanent._ " Tony is all business. As much as Bruce knows he would like to be he is not oblivious: Tony is voluntarily going to meet this newcomer.

Bruce is halfway to discovering a sick kind of envy in himself as an image boils up in their minds, that of a man's skin being torn away from his face, of - of the Red Skull, Bruce remembers the stories, but he's never _seen_ a vivid, life-like image of this monster.

It is a memory. There's more to it, words, location, other people, but it fades as quickly as it comes.

" _Not like that. Bruce isn't like that._ "

" _Tony, don't._ " Bruce takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes. He should find somewhere to sleep, force himself out of the conversation.

He can feel Tony's displeasure at the idea, but there is something else now too: the newcomer's attention has shifted to his surroundings, and Bruce can almost feel Tony narrowing his eyes.

A stern man with an eyepatch. Nick Fury. SHIELD.

And Bruce wants nothing to do with this. Wants nothing but distance from this man. He can't help it - automatic reflex when it comes to military, government - will this newcomer set them on him?

As with all thoughts, the bond is ruthless. It ferries this between all three of them, prompting Tony to his customary protective thoughts, and the stranger - the stranger has questions, suspicions, concerns.

" _Whoever you are, trust us. We'll tell you everything when you're not standing next to Nick Fury,_ the _spy. Don't tell him you have a bond, don't tell him who we are, and I'll get you out of there as soon as possible. Deal?_ "

Bruce quietly urges the newcomer to trust this. Quietly thinks an apology that he can't hold anything back.

He and Tony both pretend not to hear the deliberation in the stranger's thoughts, deliberately think of other things.

There is finally: " _Okay._ " It is a reserved yes, pending permanent approval, but that's okay. That's all they need.

" _Go along with Fury for now. Whoever you are._ "

The image - the self-portrait they get back is small, distorted. Thin, frail-looking hands. An intense sense of inadequacy, of illness, of disorientation.

It is an intense jumble that Bruce doesn't yet know how to decipher.

He doesn't press it. Not yet.

\--

Minutes later, the stranger sends an all-clear, that yes, he can talk now.

" _Who are you?_ " Tony has been aching to demand this information from the newcomer.

" _Steve Rogers._ " No hesitation, not now.

Bruce sags against the alley wall, tilting his head up. He knows that name. They both know that name. They've grown on stories about that name, Bruce has chased that legend.

" _Captain America,_ " Tony confirms.

Bruce can't focus on the mystery, only on the simple painful fact that he is bonded to Captain America, that his every thought - his every _emotion_ is there for the man to see. For the first time in so long he wants to be rid of the bond, to have his thoughts to himself.

He's not angry. He's not angry, he repeats it to himself. It's not fair to anyone.

" _Is something wrong?_ "

How can he say _yes_ to Captian America?

" _Please don't,_ he sends. He needs distance. He needs to find somewhere and sleep, so he doesn't have to think about this.

Bruce leaves the alley, forcing his attention outward.

\--

There is a strong sense of embarrassment emanating from the Captain as he confirms his identity. This is ridiculous, Tony thinks, because the newcomer isn't lying, _Steve_ isn't lying and that means he's either insane or telling the truth.

Bruce is in distress, a pained kind of distress that makes Tony want to go to him, and he - he can't. Shouldn't.

Or should he?

Tony lifts his head from where he's rested it on his arms and studies the ceiling.

Here is the thing: unlike Bruce who is a second limb, someone who has always been there, Steve (Rogers? Tony's not yet sure how to think of him) Steve is someone new, something new. Tony wants to take him apart and touch him and figure out how he joins into them. He wants to run tests, see if Bruce can hear things with the same intensity from Steve as he can. He wants to run more tests, find out how distance affects the bond.

He wants to find out how Steve Rogers is _here_ , in the present. Alive.

Here is another thing: he is not afraid of the Hulk. Not when he and Bruce know how to manage themselves, not when he knows the beast so well.

He is curious if the Hulk would try to attack him, or if he would be ignored.

It has been so long since has had to concern himself with _editing_ his own internal monologues when he knows Bruce isn't listening that the sudden loud thought from Steve scares him.

" _Stop!_ " There is nothing else: Steve's picking up on this fast, sending a coherent thought without imagery or other baggage.

" _Stop what? Thinking? Because bad news for you, Steve, you have to get used to that undercurrent. There's always going to be a background hum filled with chatter from me and Bruce both. It's how a bond works. We're all just lucky it's not_ louder _, because if I couldn't tune it out -_ " Nightmares.

" _It's not a background hum. It's like you're speaking directly to me._ "

What?

" _That's Tony,_ " Bruce thinks up all of a sudden. He sounds calmer. " _When he's focused on a single problem you can hear everything. Tell him to turn on some music and work on something while he thinks it out._ "

Tony blinks a few times, frowning. He'd - all this time? He can't help the surge of fond feelings for Bruce, because really, really, all this time Bruce knew how to manage him and he'd never noticed?

" _Learn something new every day._ " He tells them, and reaches for a screwdriver.

He doesn't miss the gratitude from the Captain, or the answering long-suffering understanding from Bruce.

That's a first step. A strong first step.

\--

Learning about Steve Rogers while Bruce sleeps is simple: all he has to do is ask and sort through what is sent.

Tony has braced himself for the next set of memories, ready to sift and decipher. It's been a long time since he's had to figure out what Bruce was thinking, and making sense of images from another's mind is difficult when you don't know everything about them.

It is impossible to miss the image of a plane, to miss the strong thought - 'I've gotta put her in the water!', and for a moment Tony isn't in his lab, he's there, fighting with the controls, fighting to die.

He comes back to himself with a hand curled protectively over his reactor, and nods stiffly to himself.

Here is the not so simple part of the bargain: Steve will ask questions right back.

" _What are you protecting?_ ", for example.

So Tony shows him a cave.

Simple.

(He will have nightmares tonight.) (Just like the ones Bruce is having now.)

\--

In the end Tony doesn't come for Steve. He stays where he is and works on the creation of his tower and doesn't take offense to anything Steve thinks as he relearns the city.

Perhaps it's cruel of him.

Bruce studiously doesn't comment, and Tony throws himself into his work and whenever Steve is asleep they try not to lose themselves in waking dreams filled with ice.

\--

" _You're afraid of him,_ " Bruce sends one evening while Steve politely ignores them. (They're all good at being polite, at ignoring each other. A vital skill, important at keeping anger from taking any of them.) (There are worms under the polite, careful surface of their minds, unresolved issues that are waiting to burst.)

Tony doesn't break stride, doesn't stop talking. He has press to do, green energy to advertise.

Bruce doesn't follow up. He lets the thought hang there.

Steve is the one to pay attention to Bruce's quietly thought _this isn't how a bond should work._

\--

There are a million little details they learn about each other. Steve sketches a dozen pictures of them, trashes the lot. None of the details are right, and for all the images he can find of them both, for all of the images they supply - he knows he needs to meet them.

It hurts to sit in a cafe and look up a tower he doesn't dare approach.

\--

He knows which thought caused Tony Stark to throw up barriers and try hiding from him: Howard Stark.

An unexpectedly sore topic with Tony. It's Bruce who asks him not to broach the subject again. There are tightly held images of fathers in their minds, and Steve may not understand but he knows he doesn't know them well enough to even start.

(It is difficult to read the files he is given on Howard.)

Bring up the man and Tony turns away from him, from them all, and it's _odd_ to feel a mind retreat from his own. It's not far enough to give them real space, metaphorically speaking, but it lets Tony pretend he's alone, and Steve won't begrudge him that.

\--

If there's anything he _can_ say good about the bond it is the simple fact that both Tony and Bruce are always there to explain any oddities about the future.

He'd mouthed the word 'google' to himself one afternoon, wondering why it was a verb and they'd both given him a crash-course in the internet, explaining the hows and whys of modern society. There aren't traveling encyclopedia britannica salesmen anymore - instead there is 'wikipedia'.

It's only one detail of a million, but everything they take for granted - it's disorienting and awe-inspiring all at once, and he's simply expected to pick up on everything as he goes along.

He thanks both of them more than once for saving him from days of confusion or making social missteps.

\--

There is also history.

From cold wars and police actions to the civil rights movement to space flight to the human genome to a thing called 'twitter' there is so much he has missed, and more that he will take a lifetime catching up on.

There are times when Steve just lies on his bed and closes his eyes and pretends that the bed isn't so large, that the _world_ isn't so large, and these are the dangerous times, because he can almost, almost convince himself that he hasn't gone anywhere, that the war was a dream, the future is a pipe-dream, that Bucky'll come in smelling like perfume but not like smoke, that if he opens his eyes he'll be himself again.

It hurts to open his eyes, but he does it anyways.

\--

Everything comes to a head when Fury calls. Within hours they're all heading for the same location, the same enclosed space, and they're supposed to have their heads in the game, they're supposed to be focused on saving the world, but the only thing coming is excitement and dread and the undercurrent of longing that Steve has been choking on ever since he woke up here.

He's trying, _trying_ not to get caught up in the whirlpool of thoughts and emotions, trying to stay focused here.

Steve reviews the files on those SHIELD is assembling, politely listens to Agent Coulson, tries not to pay attention to how Tony is putting off coming. Tries not to think about how close he is to Bruce. He can almost feel the bond singing with the proximity, and he shouldn't be paying any attention to it.

There's a man out there with the tesseract.

" _Is it coincidence? Has to be coincidence. SHIELD wouldn't set us up like this. Not after leveling one of their own bases._ " Tony has coherent chatter in the background, and he has to answer.

" _Maybe it's fate._ "

He's never been a big believer in fate, never settled for what life gave him, and here he is, flying over the ocean in aircraft Howard Stark would have killed for.

He knows it's coming, smiles to himself to hear the scoff. Wipes the expression from his face, because he shouldn't be happy here, it wouldn't fit the profile he's been showing SHIELD so far.

None of them know how they'll react when they finally meet each other. All of them want to keep the bond on the down-low, out of SHIELD's eyes.

Unless and until he has a better idea he'll follow along.

\--

Bruce turns around on the naval vessel, tries to find his footing. Everything everywhere he looks is military, and he's been running from the military for a long time. It still takes a moment to override the irrational twinges of fear and anger, and takes a moment longer to control himself.

Then he turns around and Steve's right there and all he knows to do is stick out a hand in greeting.

It's overdue, long overdue, and all he can offer is a not-good-enough greeting of "Hi," in answer to Steve's "Doctor Banner?"

There's jealousy from Tony, there's understanding and equal awkwardness from Steve, and Bruce is grateful for him, grateful not for the first time that Steve understands.

There are no sparks or fireworks when they shake hands, but Bruce has never looked for that. Tony is the flash and fire in the bond, and he has always, always tried to be the bastion of stability even though he is anything but.

Steve's grip is firm and confident like he knows what he's doing and they both share a smile, one that they'll have to share more of later, when it can convey as much sentiment as they don't dare expose here.

The jealousy is a good lesson for Tony, Bruce thinks, and he knows it's not fair.

He moves on. He discovers that they're putting him in the air, not under the sea. He can't help but laugh, because it's that or jump off now.

\--

It's Bruce's turn for jealousy when he hears echoes of AC/DC from both of them, but he smothers it, resolves to wait and keep waiting. He's done it all his life, he can do it for several hours more.

\--

Tony's eyes are on Steve as they remove their helmets, baring both of their faces to each other, and okay, he knows they have an audience, but he takes two steps closer to Steve and studies him from up close, memorizes details and watches the quirk of Steve's mouth as he takes Tony's measure.

Oh, he knows he comes up short. He'd be offended except he was expecting this. It's part of what he's been afraid of, part of why he's put off meeting them for so long.

Steve doesn't say a word as he steps back, puts some space between them again, and just when Tony thinks that it's over, that was easy, Steve holds out a hand.

Tony looks at it for too long before realizing that oh, duh, he's supposed to return the handshake, and right, right, he's all over that.

Somehow, Tony thinks as he takes Steve's hand, he always thought he'd be more...suave. Smooth. In control. After all, Steve can see inside him, same as Bruce, and okay, this man may be a childhood hero slash lofty expectation slash Tony never expected he'd just be a flawed normal person but that doesn't change the fact that Tony thought this would be more dignified.

He's shaking hands with a man in a flag while a Norse demi-god war criminal looks on. It honestly can't get much worse.

Oh, wait, it can: Natalie dash Natasha Romanoff is in the front seat of this sorry excuse for a plane.

"Are you _laughing_ at me?"

"No," Steve says, schooling his expression and pulling his hand back, and he's not fooling Tony, he can hear every single shade of that amusement.

Fantastic.

\--

Steve supposes he deserves what comes next, from Tony blatantly ignoring him and attacking Thor without so much as a by your leave to him crouching under his shield and trusting it to hold up under the weight of Mjolnir's strike.

He shouldn't have laughed, he should have picked up that Tony was masking insecurity and embarrassment under the thoughts, and even if Bruce quietly assures him that he couldn't have known he still regrets it.

Tony, after all, will hold it against him.

The ride back to the helicarrier is a subdued one, with Loki restrained and Tony watching both of the demi-gods with his arms crossed. Steve doesn't try to say anything, instead lost in thought. Oh, he's alert enough - if anyone tries anything he'll be there, but until then he's thinking.

He's thinking, of all people, about Bucky. Bucky, who in a bad mood resembled nothing more than a sour cat who was liable to scratch if Steve got too close. He had (and that stings) a dignity not unlike Tony's, but Steve has to catch himself before he goes too far down this path.

Tony's not Bucky, never will be.

He's still not through searching for ghosts.

\--

Bruce keeps himself small on the bridge, just there to listen, to speak up if he has something to say. He can feel Tony coming, Steve is already here, and he is listening to Loki threaten and match Fury's posturing.

A light for all mankind, and it's obvious who that is meant for.

Then there's Tony, and he takes his time, talks a mile a minute and barely looks at Bruce, instead loitering around the bridge and Bruce doesn't miss the planting of the bug, but only barely. Tony's good at lying, great at hiding things, even to himself, and there's no red flag in his thoughts that says 'I'm planting a bug on the bridge of the Helicarrier.'

If Steve picks up on it Bruce doesn't hear and he doesn't point it out.

Tony crosses the room, compliments his work, shakes his hand. It's an act, it's a genuine greeting, he has to wait until they don't have eyes on them to really talk.

Bruce wants to take him away right now. Instead he speaks English to Tony and tries to explain advanced scientific theory to Steve and stays on target. Loki wants to be here, that's why they have him, and he's not sure where to begin in figuring out what the demi-god's plans are, except that they have the clue of the cube, and the idea of a portal.

Tony, he can't help noticing, is rattled.

\--

Once the tracking models are going, once they have time to talk, Bruce stops to look at Tony, really look at him. He is everything Bruce was expecting and more and less. He does not loom larger than life but his presence fills up the room. He is always in motion, gesturing as he speaks, tapping at the reactor when he mentions it, and finally Bruce goes to him, goes up to him and catches his wrists.

It's far too intimate for _here_ , but he has to have the contact, has to feel Tony's pulse racing under his thumbs, has to know that he is _real_.

He wants to put his hands in Tony's hair and kiss him and that is a line of thought he hasn't even thought of in years. It's a line of thought Tony picks up and considers, and Bruce shakes his head.

"Later," he says, knowing he is forcing Tony into committing to a later.

"Right," Tony says. "Later."

Bruce nods and lets go, crosses back to the program he needs to build. He still feels Tony on his hands, wonders if Tony feels the same tingle on his wrists.

" _It's all in your head,_ " Tony sends to him, and Bruce gives him a wry smile. This is familiar.

He has to find it funny that they're more comfortable thinking at each other than actually talking to each other. He has to find a lot of things funny these days.

There is Steve by the doorway, radiating a hesitancy that he appreciates. He's been the third wheel to the two of them, slowly fitting in and finding a place in their rhythm and this is how it works. Steve keeps his distance until they're ready for him.

"Come on in," Bruce invites.

Steve gives him a grateful smile, softer than it should be, almost familiar.

" _We're all here,_ " Steve joins them by the table, studies the scepter, then gives them both appraising looks.

There's a moment forming, a moment Bruce wants to be part of, and Tony shatters it by bringing up Fury, bringing up Loki's speech, bringing up the virus working its way into SHIELD's systems.

Bruce wonders why he likes the man, and hears Steve echo the sentiment.

\--

Steve storms out, temper up but not out of control, just this shade of irritated. Safe enough that Bruce doesn't call him on it, safe enough that Tony barely notices, completely absorbed in himself.

He thinks as he walks, angry but clear-headed enough to decide to look into SHIELD on his own.

It makes too much sense, even if he doesn't want to believe it to be true. The more things change, after all.

\--

They confront Fury about the weapons of mass destruction. As expected it doesn't go well.

Anger almost takes him as it takes them; Steve cuts and cuts deeply and Tony defends himself, lashing out with words as sharp as Steve's.

Something is wrong, very wrong. He's on the edge, pushed there too easily, and he lays himself bare for the room to see.

The scepter shows its hand bare minutes later, and he has an explanation but not cold water to throw on the anger, because it is never that easy to come back down, and then the floor falls out from under him.

\--

"Get in the suit," Steve says, and Tony _runs_ for it, tries to warn Steve of what's coming, tries to reassure Bruce that they'll make it through, _feels_ the anger that is almost physical rising up in him.

These are not controlled conditions, these are not how Tony was planning to introduce Steve to the Hulk. This is the opposite of safe and someone - Natasha - is going to be hurt, but there's nothing Tony can do about it because they will all fall from the sky if they don't get repairs done before someone takes out another one of the engines.

The armor seals on around him and locks him in, just as it should. He's free and trapped within it, and he takes to the skies. If the anger masters him the armor has safety protocols built in for just such an occasion.

Just in time. Just in time, as a roar echoes through the helicarrier.

It takes everything Tony has not to call back to it, takes him everything he has to contain himself as he makes his way to the damaged engine.

The Hulk is angry, enraged, _furious_ and he can't help but echo all of that, start a feedback loop that will take hours to break out of, and he has to fight to keep his head on straight.

The _fear_ that lances through him helps.

Oh, he thinks. Remembers. Steve.

" _Breathe!_ " He orders, waits for Steve to snap back at him for daring to order him, but to his surprise Steve doesn't, focuses on breathing instead, calms a little. Just a little, just enough to center himself.

Good for him.

Tony starts on clearing wreckage, and starts giving more orders, directs Steve to look at the relays.

He's angry, on edge, but in control, and so is Steve. They might just make it through this.

\--

He doesn't think, doesn't hesitate to get in there and start pushing. Steve has to pull him up short, ask him out he plans to get out once it's up to speed.

There is a hope that this won't become a recurring theme, but Tony doesn't know if it comes from him or Steve.

\--

Steve fights for his position, for his focus, for his mind.

The Hulk - the Hulk is everything he was warned against and more, a bottomless rage that is as much a monster as the physical Hulk must be.

To think that Bruce carries all of this, carries this ocean of rage within him. To think that it weaponizes itself.

He doesn't have time to analyze it, doesn't have time to do anything but hang on tight to his sanity.

\--

Something none of them have realized: without a release the anger winds up around itself and builds and builds and builds until it's blinding, until it's overpowering, until it's everything the Hulk _is_.

\--

They survive, somehow.

Coulson doesn't.

It hits Tony harder than he thought it would.

It doesn't hit Steve hard _enough_.

\--

Tony flies out; risks himself and everything for the sake of armoring up in a new suit; discovers that his heart is protected by the metal and thus still his.

\--

Bruce comes, as Tony knew he would. He may have a monster within him but he is ultimately good when it counts, when it comes down to the wire.

He tells them that he is always angry, and Tony knew this, knows this, is ready to hold fast against the storm this time.

\--

Steve barely blinks. He understands now, understands why Bruce and Tony always bend around each other to maintain control over themselves.

He guards Natasha, he takes shelter under his shield. He calls out positions, tells the Hulk to do what he does best.

\--

Tony doesn't even think to realize that he's falling into line; stepping up when it counts.

That is, after all, what they do, what they all do: step up when it counts.

\--

"Close it," Steve says, eyes on the sky. The blast will finish the job Loki's army started if it leaks out of that portal, and he can't let that happen.

It still feels like he's standing over a table with a knife in his hand, prepared to cut off his hand in one blow. It still feels like he's landed the blow.

The Hulk might tear him apart, but he has to make the call.

\--

The Hulk drops from the sky, crashes down and drops Tony to the ground, not gentle. Banner is upset in the back of _his_ mind, for how little he knows when _he_ has control Bruce knows _enough_.

The Hulk crouches by Tony, lets the others expose him and check on him.

Nothing. The Captain sits back, _slumps_ back on his heels, and Tony doesn't move.

The Hulk doesn't decide that he is angry. The Hulk is always angry. This just makes him _angrier_

He roars, and if Tony were anyone else he'd try hitting him for good measure, to make him move.

It works, and the Hulk is satisfied. Still angry, always angry, but satisfied.

\--

After the battle: Loki is restrained, injuries are treated, the Hulk sits down and collapses in on himself and becomes Bruce again.

Bruce is dead tired when he's himself again, drop dead tired, but he hauls himself to his feet, barely clothed, a hand on his waist to keep his pants from falling off. He drags himself to Tony's side, where Tony's prying pieces of his armor off himself, and sits down next to him. How they're in the tower he doesn't know - so few things that happen to the Hulk filter through to him, only the most important things - how Tony's alive he doesn't know - he could collapse, but instead just sits next to Tony and tries not to nod off as he sits there.

There's someone missing but he doesn't have the energy to think or call out, and finally the exhaustion of changing not once but twice in one day catches up with him all of a sudden and he pitches forward, dropping into sleep.

He barely feels Tony's hands as they catch him.

\--

Tony sits on the couch in half-disassembled armor that's warped in so many places he'll need mechanical assistance to get some of it off and holds Bruce in his arms.

He should be in the lab doing this, but the Hulk hadn't left this floor, and he - he knows how tired Bruce is after changing, after especially violent sessions as the Hulk, and he thinks he knows the bond - and Bruce - well enough to know that Bruce would come to him as soon as he could.

The Hulk caught him, Thor had said. Steve had shown him, unintentionally.

Bruce must have known, somehow.

Tony eases Bruce back against the couch, arranges him so he's as comfortable as he's going to get leaning up against Tony's metal-clad side, and gets back to work. And ignores how Steve is watching him, has been watching him this whole time.

As soon as Loki had been secured Steve had devoted himself to watching Tony's every move, as if he knows how prone Tony is to pushing himself when he's still got stuff to do, and Tony's been ready this whole time to jump down his throat if he tries to stop him from removing the armor.

But he hasn't done anything. He's just watched, watched every piece be painstakingly removed and watched as Bruce stumbled over and finally, finally as Tony settles Bruce against him Steve asks him where a first-aid kit is.

Directions, badly hidden irritation and gratitude, and Steve comes back, offering him a drink - it's water, sadly - and then he opens the kit and begins to treat the parts of Tony he can get at.

"Could've used you earlier," Tony mutters, pulling away another piece of the outer armor. "You can stand in for Dummy - hold this, right here."

"I'm not a robot," Steve tells him as he holds right where Tony wants him to hold, and uses his admittedly impressive super-soldier strength to pry the armor off of Tony's arm.

"Most of the injuries are bruises from impacts," Tony says, showing Steve where else to hold and pull and pry. "I'll get myself checked out later, see if I have ribs that need taping. How's your stomach?"

"Mostly healed already," Steve says. "It'll be sore for a while, but I'll be back to full health by tomorrow."

"Impressive," Tony murmurs as they get the last of the armor on his upper torso and arms off. "Real impressive, Cap."

Steve says nothing, a measured silence that Tony doesn't appreciate. He's sore and tired and he almost died more than once back there and the worst part is, Steve knows all of this, knows it first-hand.

He's not comfortable being this exposed. He doesn't dare push Steve away now.

"The rest of this is going to have to wait for Bruce to move," he says instead, rapping his knuckles against an iron-clad thigh. He looks at Bruce, who looks small and vulnerable curled up against his side, sleeping as if he'll never wake up.

"In a few minutes we'll move him and get that off," Steve says, taking charge of the situation. "Do you have blankets up here?"

"What, shock blankets?"

"No, Tony. Blankets."

"Those would be downstairs. Ask JARVIS. I don't know."

Steve stands up, but doesn't go, not yet. He puts a hand on Tony's shoulder, grips it firmly.

"What is it?" Tony tips his head up, eyes on Steve. "I'm not going anywhere if that's what you're worried about. Bruce would Hulk-out and hold me down until you got back." It's a weak attempt at a joke.

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, then squeezes Tony's shoulder tight. "I'm glad you're alive," he tells him. There's more he wants to say. Tony's tired, too tired for this, but Steve's grip is tight and he can't get away. "I'm sorry. We both know what I said - it was wrong."

"You were under the influence. We all were."

"I still said it," Steve says, a better man than Tony will ever be, and as soon as the thought crosses his mind Steve recoils, an image of Tony vanishing into the portal flashing across his mind.

"That doesn't change anything," Tony says. "Who else could have done it?"

Besides, he thinks but doesn't say or send even if it shows to Steve anyways: Fury called him. Not Thor, not Steve to get Thor to go. He called _him_.

Steve breathes in, a sound that's shakier than it should be, and puts his other hand on Tony's shoulder, grounding both of them.

"Stop," he says clearly. "What you did - Tony, I was wrong about you. I'm sorry." _Just accept it, please._

Tony looks up at him, then turns his head to look at Bruce's hair, all he can see from this angle, and breathes out.

He's too tired for this.

"Okay," he says, and it's the best Steve's going to get from him right now.

Steve just tightens his hold again before letting go and finally walking out, presumably to find blankets. Tony looks up at the ceiling then out the smashed windows and doesn't know what to think.

He does finally carefully wrap an arm around Bruce.

\--

Steve leans against the elevator wall and breathes, eyes closed.

As the elevator takes him down he thinks about Tony and he thinks about Bruce and he thinks about the battle and the whole day and everything that has happened. It's hard to believe that it's all been one day, one momentous day and now he's met both of them, he's fought gods and aliens, he's saved a city.

He's given first-aid to a man who doesn't know when to stop and care for himself.

There will be follow-up, there must be follow-up with SHIELD and Loki and the rest of the team but all he wants right now is to make sure that those he has within reach get the rest and care they need.

That, and he wants to beat sense into Tony until he realizes how wrong Steve was, how much _good_ he did today.

\--

Tony's half-asleep when Steve gets back, eyes closed and mind far away drifting. His thoughts are confused, a haze of green and alien and stars, countless alien stars that only he has seen. When Steve touches his shoulder lightly to wake him up he jolts back to focus with a shock, then rubs his face. His dreams are going to be amazing nightmares, he can call it now. If he can sleep at all.

It's all coming back to him as he gets distance from the events of the day, and as Steve holds out the glass again he drinks the water without complaint - before older memories surge up and he bends over and throws up over the arm of the couch.

There's not much in his stomach and after a minute he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sits back up.

"Are you okay?" Stupid question, but he doesn't call Steve on it.

Of course he's not okay.

"Reaction to the water," Tony says. "Sorry. Not you."

Steve nods and puts the glass aside. He walks off to get a cloth, comes back and cleans up Tony's mess. It's as if it doesn't bother him at all. Tony can't believe him.

"You don't have to play nursemaid, Cap, I think we'll live."

" _It's not funny._ " A thought, not words. What Steve says is "I just want to be sure, Tony."

"You were scared," Tony states.

"Weren't you?"

"Didn't have time for that."

Steve shakes his head and finishes cleaning up the mess; walks off to dispose of the cloth. He comes back soon and starts draping Bruce in a blanket, a full-size comfortable fluffy blanket. Tony can't remember which room he must have stolen it from.

If he weren't rich he'd worry about the cleaning bill. They're going to get dirt on it, and maybe even alien blood if they're lucky.

It's not the only blanket Steve has, but first Steve props Bruce up against the arm of the couch and turns back to Tony.

"Let's get the rest of that off now."

Tony looks at his legs, then gets up. "Don't bother trying to salvage much of it, Cap. It's an almost complete bust after the workout today."

"It was amazing," Steve says, kneeling in front of him to (sadly) remove the armor, and only the armor. He finds the catches as Tony directs him to them, and forces the armor off when it refuses to move. It's only a few minutes before Tony can step out of his boots and that's it, he's back to just his pants. His ruined layers of shirts were taken off with the armor as Steve did the first-aid, and while he misses that vintage tee he hadn't been about to tell Cap to be gentle with the utterly ruined piece of fabric.

He'll just buy another one.

"It was amazing, thank you," Tony says belatedly. "It wasn't even done. Had to get JARVIS to hurry up and spin the rims so I wouldn't become a pancake on the street."

"It - wasn't?" Steve looks at him with a blank look, then shakes his head. "...That's really something."

Tony shrugs, sitting back down on the couch gingerly. "We were on the clock. Wasn't time to ask Loki to stop and wait for the final touches to be put on it."

Whatever Steve's thinking he's not interested, not when there's a blanket nearby and time to sleep. He wants to take a page from Bruce's book and leave the world behind for a while, damn the risk of nightmares.

Steve, thank god, can take a hint. He takes out the second blanket and wraps Tony in it, then helps Bruce resume his spot against Tony's side and stands back.

"Take a picture and I'll throw you outside," Tony mutters, but his heart isn't in it. He's tired.

Steve shakes his head and looks at the ceiling. "JARVIS, would you dim the lights?"

"Gladly, sir."

\--

Shawarma happens later, when Tony's awake to remember his brilliant idea.

Shawarma, and team building. They're still exhausted from the fight - they may never stop being tired - they never got enough sleep - but that's okay, that's fine, Tony's happy to escape nightmares in favor for food he's never had before.

It's almost a given that he doesn't like the taste of the stuff, but he suggested it, so damn it he'll eat all of it. And he does. Despite how Bruce - Bruce! - rolls his eyes at him.

It is gratifying to see Steve finally run out of energy once he's been fed enough, almost drifting off at the table then and there.

Barton: actually a cool guy. Tony tells him this.

So, yeah, shawarma. Team victory meal. Good all around.

\--

Things can't go back to normal after that.

\--

Can't.

\--

Bruce refuses to be let off at the port, insists that Tony take him home. Insists that they meet Steve at the tower.

Tony still isn't used to living in a democracy where he can be out-voted.

Bruce just tells him that he's always been out-voted - the Hulk gets a vote, too, and he almost always votes with Bruce.

(There is laughter, there is a playful swat, there is Bruce making a move he has dreamt of and catching Tony's cheek and kissing him.)

Tony drives him home, after that.

\--

The day Steve moves into the tower, leaving behind Brooklyn again, Bruce is waiting for him in his suite with two items.

"What is it, Bruce?"

Bruce still isn't over the simple fact that they're speaking to each other instead of thinking, and smiles. "A welcoming gift." He holds out both hands. "You're supposed to taste them. Together."

Steve blinks at him, then takes the two items.

Coconut, and a penny.

"Why..." He starts, and Bruce's smile widens as he shows him. (They will sit, later, and they will share stories and memories together.) (They will sit, later, and Tony will eventually join them and share some stories of his own.)

Steve gets it, gets it so well he chuckles before sliding the penny under his tongue and the coconut above it.

They can't share the sensation of taste over the bond, but the simple feeling of relief? That, they can share.

That, they do share.


End file.
